While staring at its languid path
I swept to clouds where life began
and then to seas and river runs
to ponds abreast of painful tears.
Skies that cry when gray moods swell
sweat the labor life absorbs
and drips upon the tongue of God.
Like in dreams, I stray awake
forgetting thoughts where last they came,
then watched again the lonely path
that meets and melds, then runs again
until, at last, its visage gone...